1986 was a "happening" year. I acquired my driving licence, got a membership into International Mensa, joined a political party and discovered a fibroid in my left breast.
It was about 4 cm across at the six o'clock position and it slid fluidly under my skin. I consulted three specialists who assured me that it was "pretty harmless". It did not bother me so I let it be. I kept a vigilant eye to monitor its size, occasionally consulting with my company GP to get their opinion.
Lily (not her real name) was a colleague and family friend. When she heard about my fibroid, she invited me to a special whatchamacallit at a local church. The speaker was a "Man of God", in his fifties and probably from Canada.
I was bored stiff so my mind wandered to the four corners of sobriety. Suddenly I heard the speaker's authoritative voice and snapped myself out of my reverie just in time to see a group of men and women standing in a straight line behind the speaker. (I learnt later that this was The Altar Call.)
"There is one among you who have a growth in your body. God spoke to me this morning before I came to this church. I have been called to heal this girl. Come forward this instant."
I - was - shocked! How did ....? Lowering myself into my chair, I tried to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He caught my attention alright! From the corner of my eye, I saw a girl on the outer parameter on the right rising to her feet and walking towards the stage in front. I sighed with relief.
"Where are you? You must come forward at once. We will not continue without you. Come! And be healed!"
My heart sank. I slithered a little lower in my chair. No! My mind yelled. He did not mean me. He couldn't! It's not me. It is someone else. Whoever you are, go up to him, Go, for crying out loud! My eyes panned across the sea of faces pleading for someone, anyone, to respond to this most extraordinary call. Three person, one of them a girl rose from somewhere in the middle. It felt like I was in the middle of a scary movie and waiting to see what happened next. My gaze fell upon the speaker far away above the stage. Move on, will you? Just move on.
By this time, about fifteen or more men and women were aligned behind the speaker. Still, he searched the congregation. He raised his voice and it resonated across the hall.
"LISTEN! You know who you are! This thing inside you. It's going to kill you! Come forward. NOW! AND BE HEALED IN THE NAME OF JESUS!"
Oh - it - was - appalling!
I wished that the earth would swallow me at this point so that I needn't have to experience this anomalous occasion. I felt like an over-tuned guitar string just about to snap. My heart pounded ferociously and my palm went weak. I gazed surreptitiously at the congregation. Why, oh why, wouldn't anyone respond?
"COME NOW AND BE HEALED IN THE NAME OF JESUS! We will not continue without you!"
Suddenly, curiously ... I found myself on my feet walking boldly towards the speaker. It was surreal! To this day, I could not explain what gave me the courage. How did I discern that this was the right course of action? Did common sense prevail? Where is my logical mind? What could have possessed me? It seemed like my brain (and hence logic) had alienated itself. And the thinking mind obeyed when Faith summons.
Steadfastly I walked towards the speaker, neither looking to the left nor to the right, my eyes fixated upon the man. He searched me with his piercing eyes. I had to look away for it felt like he was reaching out to grab my soul. I wasn't ready for that.
Without another word, he pointed at the line of humanity standing behind him. I joined the line. Beginning at the other end, he placed his hands on a man's head uttering rhetorically and with some authority. The man fell backwards! Someone caught him from the back and slowly lowered him onto the floor. The speaker moved on to the next in line. Curiously, the same sequence of event unfolded, again and again and again down the line towards me. I was alarmed because I wasn't suitably dressed for the occasion. I was sporting a black miniskirt and wasn't particularly keen to have the congregation peering up my hemline. When the Man of God reached me, it was with some trepidation that I watched him place his hands on my head. I shut my eyes and heard him uttering words of command, demanding healing in the name of Jesus. I could feel the pressure of his hands as it sought to nudge me backwards.
What? I'm supposed to fall backwards too? I can't have that happening so I stood my ground. A woman from the church whispered to me. "Let go. You must have faith" to which I protested "If I did not have the faith, I wouldn't be here."
The second nudge wasn't quite as gentle as the first. I succumbed. The woman from the church caught me and lowered me onto the floor whereupon a towel was placed on my skirt. (I didn't know about the towel but was glad that they had the presence of mind to take care of the nitty-gritty of propriety.
I wasn't sure how long I was supposed to lie on the floor so I observed the others. When they stood up, it was my cue to follow suit. Each returned to their seats but oh-no, not me! The Man of God wasn't about to release me. He held on to me, wanting to know if I was healed. I was utterly confused so I nodded, just to be polite. In truth. I wouldn't know if I was healed. - Would I?
"You are healed? Praise God! And who healed you?"
"Jesus Christ?" I stammered.
I'll tell you what's odd. The moment I uttered His name, I became so overwhelmed that I wept copiously. That too, was surreal. Why was I emotional all of a sudden and over something I hadn't the vaguest clue about?
His wife appeared out of the clear blue. The Man of God and his wife peered at me kindly and whispered some comforting words. They took my picture before finally releasing me.
No. I did not understand what that was all about. It had something to do with Faith and God and a miracle which challenged Death in 1986!
... or something along those lines.
Lily (not her real name) was a colleague and family friend. When she heard about my fibroid, she invited me to a special whatchamacallit at a local church. The speaker was a "Man of God", in his fifties and probably from Canada.
NOTE - At this point on the timeline, I hadn't read "The Murdered Heiress (more here)", did not know a great deal about God and have not discovered The Old Testament or was religiously aligned with any faith.The church was packed to the hilt but we found two seats at the outer parameter on the left near one of the massive doors. It was one of those "sermons" where you sat quietly and listened attentively while the speaker cracked bad jokes between theological pieces.
I was bored stiff so my mind wandered to the four corners of sobriety. Suddenly I heard the speaker's authoritative voice and snapped myself out of my reverie just in time to see a group of men and women standing in a straight line behind the speaker. (I learnt later that this was The Altar Call.)
"There is one among you who have a growth in your body. God spoke to me this morning before I came to this church. I have been called to heal this girl. Come forward this instant."
I - was - shocked! How did ....? Lowering myself into my chair, I tried to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He caught my attention alright! From the corner of my eye, I saw a girl on the outer parameter on the right rising to her feet and walking towards the stage in front. I sighed with relief.
"Where are you? You must come forward at once. We will not continue without you. Come! And be healed!"
My heart sank. I slithered a little lower in my chair. No! My mind yelled. He did not mean me. He couldn't! It's not me. It is someone else. Whoever you are, go up to him, Go, for crying out loud! My eyes panned across the sea of faces pleading for someone, anyone, to respond to this most extraordinary call. Three person, one of them a girl rose from somewhere in the middle. It felt like I was in the middle of a scary movie and waiting to see what happened next. My gaze fell upon the speaker far away above the stage. Move on, will you? Just move on.
By this time, about fifteen or more men and women were aligned behind the speaker. Still, he searched the congregation. He raised his voice and it resonated across the hall.
"LISTEN! You know who you are! This thing inside you. It's going to kill you! Come forward. NOW! AND BE HEALED IN THE NAME OF JESUS!"
Oh - it - was - appalling!
I wished that the earth would swallow me at this point so that I needn't have to experience this anomalous occasion. I felt like an over-tuned guitar string just about to snap. My heart pounded ferociously and my palm went weak. I gazed surreptitiously at the congregation. Why, oh why, wouldn't anyone respond?
"COME NOW AND BE HEALED IN THE NAME OF JESUS! We will not continue without you!"
Suddenly, curiously ... I found myself on my feet walking boldly towards the speaker. It was surreal! To this day, I could not explain what gave me the courage. How did I discern that this was the right course of action? Did common sense prevail? Where is my logical mind? What could have possessed me? It seemed like my brain (and hence logic) had alienated itself. And the thinking mind obeyed when Faith summons.
Steadfastly I walked towards the speaker, neither looking to the left nor to the right, my eyes fixated upon the man. He searched me with his piercing eyes. I had to look away for it felt like he was reaching out to grab my soul. I wasn't ready for that.
Without another word, he pointed at the line of humanity standing behind him. I joined the line. Beginning at the other end, he placed his hands on a man's head uttering rhetorically and with some authority. The man fell backwards! Someone caught him from the back and slowly lowered him onto the floor. The speaker moved on to the next in line. Curiously, the same sequence of event unfolded, again and again and again down the line towards me. I was alarmed because I wasn't suitably dressed for the occasion. I was sporting a black miniskirt and wasn't particularly keen to have the congregation peering up my hemline. When the Man of God reached me, it was with some trepidation that I watched him place his hands on my head. I shut my eyes and heard him uttering words of command, demanding healing in the name of Jesus. I could feel the pressure of his hands as it sought to nudge me backwards.
What? I'm supposed to fall backwards too? I can't have that happening so I stood my ground. A woman from the church whispered to me. "Let go. You must have faith" to which I protested "If I did not have the faith, I wouldn't be here."
The second nudge wasn't quite as gentle as the first. I succumbed. The woman from the church caught me and lowered me onto the floor whereupon a towel was placed on my skirt. (I didn't know about the towel but was glad that they had the presence of mind to take care of the nitty-gritty of propriety.
I wasn't sure how long I was supposed to lie on the floor so I observed the others. When they stood up, it was my cue to follow suit. Each returned to their seats but oh-no, not me! The Man of God wasn't about to release me. He held on to me, wanting to know if I was healed. I was utterly confused so I nodded, just to be polite. In truth. I wouldn't know if I was healed. - Would I?
"You are healed? Praise God! And who healed you?"
"Jesus Christ?" I stammered.
I'll tell you what's odd. The moment I uttered His name, I became so overwhelmed that I wept copiously. That too, was surreal. Why was I emotional all of a sudden and over something I hadn't the vaguest clue about?
His wife appeared out of the clear blue. The Man of God and his wife peered at me kindly and whispered some comforting words. They took my picture before finally releasing me.
No. I did not understand what that was all about. It had something to do with Faith and God and a miracle which challenged Death in 1986!
... or something along those lines.
